Book: Journey killer

- Excuse me, - I said. - Didn't mean to startle you. But you must not stay here alone. Kettle fears that range from the Regal can still pose a threat, and this place is not so far from the column.
She smiled bitterly:
- I'm always alone, wherever I was. I think they can't do to me anything that would be worse than what I myself did.

I just quietly asked her:
Now there's no privacy?
- Only that we keep from ourselves - sadly she replied.

Take memories of my mother and the feelings that they give rise to. I don't want them to know. Take the sob rises in my throat when I think about Molly. Take all the bright days that we have lived with it. Get their splendor and leave me only the shadow of what I saw and felt. Give me a chance to remember them without injuring yourself.

I was looking at the front paw of the dragon. Where my hands lay on the rough stone, now was two prints. They each flake was delicate and impeccable. I'll give him all of this, I thought, all this - and what a tiny part of the dragon I managed to fill. Then I thought about the dragon Verity. It was huge. As my king did it? What he kept to himself all these years to be able to give form to this dragon?
- He felt your uncle. Great love, boundless loyalty... Sometimes I think my hundred years pale next to what he had experienced in his early forties.

Barric - ' she went on, and her voice was hesitant - I heard... Lacey said that once you loved patience. She caught her breath. - Do you still love? she asked.
Barric looked almost angry. Molly met his eyes, her eyes were pleading, and borric bowed his head. She barely heard his words:
I love my memories of her. What she was then, as I was then... Probably the same as you still love Fitz.

The power didn't fall asleep in me. Especially in the summer when I walk along the shore, past sea cliffs and looking into the distance, I feel the desire to stretch forward Force as it once did Verity. Sometimes I do it and find out about the catch of the fisherman or of household matters mate on a passing merchant ship. Verity once told me that the hardest thing that nobody ever answers.

Sometimes when she sleeps next to me, and I lie awake, listening to her quiet breathing, I think I'll Wake up tomorrow and find some new meaning in life. But usually Wake up in the morning from the pain in his numb body, I think that I'm not a young man. I'm an old man, a prisoner in the wounded body of a young man.